THE ROADS WE CHOOSE
by RedtoBlue
Summary: What would have happened if something has prompted Ennis to choose a different path at different junctions of their difficult and separate lives? Inspired by a short story by O.Henry “The Roads of Destiny”, but with a happy if a bit emotional ending.
1. Chapter 1 The Road Behind

PART I – THE ROAD BEHIND

**Pairing:** Jack/Ennis  
**Genre:** Canon based AU; inspired by the short story by "The Roads of Destiny"  
**Word count**: 1,047  
**Disclaimer:** The characters do not belong to me, the plot may be similar to others'. It's something I just had to write down. No rent is sought from it, I'm just sharing with the likeminded crowd.

**Feedback:** I´d appreciate it, thank you!

Huge thanks to my betas **lv2walk** and EsmeAmelia.

* * *

The room was stark, blanched, devoid of any trace of the warmth that its owner had about him. Once. Ennis vaguely registered a fleeting thought at the back of his mind – _how it's possible_,_ how he could possibly come from here, one so full of li_… The thought faded away right there with very little effort on his side. He had become very good with it lately, with not letting any thought that could cause pain into his mind. _The kind a pain you couldn't stand. The kind a pain that made you wanna stop livin'. _So what he got now was numbness. Total, all-encompassing, never-ending. Almost blissful. And Ennis was thankful for that. Even if he had to nurture it with a steady flow of cheap whiskey, on which he spent most of his measly pay left after the child support. 'Cause numbness was the only thing that had kept him going since… since the postcard. He couldn't afford to let it go.

That day after the phone call with _his_ wife in Texas, Ennis had staggered out from the phone booth and froze, taking in the street, the trees, a couple of people walking by, the blazing white sun against colorless sky. Things around him that looked sort of familiar but not entirely the same. Like it had all been a slow motion movie and he the only spectator. Staring down at the postcard with the red stamp "Deceased" across his own scribbling he had wondered dimly why there was no pain, just emptiness. But that's alright he'd figured, emptiness was better than pain. 'Cause he'd already knew then that he wouldn't be able to stand the pain, not _that_ pain. The one he had spent almost twenty years of his wretched life trying to avoid.

Then it had been two weeks before he had finally managed to get a day off to drive to Lightning Flats. All that time he went through motion, operating on some kind of autopilot, barely recognizing extra actions required of him. Like daily replenishment of whiskey, talking to Stoutmire 'bout the day off, figurin' out the route to his destination. Like lulling the almost palpable emptiness into a general numbness and taking a fuckin' good care that it stayed that way. He'd think of what he was gonna say and do at the Lightning Flats when he got there he had reckoned.

So now, staggering aimlessly around the scantily furnished room - _his room -_, looking without seeing, touching things without feeling, Ennis found himself struggling to put up a rational thought of what he'd wanted do here. Had expected to find here. The notion that _his_ old man downstairs was waiting for Ennis to get done and over with the visit and get the hell out of his house did not help to get a grip of a focus. He needed more time. He never had enough time. Never enough time…Had he?

Ennis opened the closet. A couple of old jeans neatly folded over wire hangers, a pair of old boots he thought he recognized. Then at the left end of the closet, in a narrow hiding place next to the wall, he found an old denim shirt. _His_ shirt from the Brokeback days, stained with Ennis' blood on the right sleeve. He wasn't even surprised that he recognized it right away. He just knew. Somehow Ennis was not surprised either when he saw another shirt inside it. Ennis' shirt, cradled and held close by _his_, like it never wanted to let go. _He _had never wanted to let go.

Ennis stared at the shirts for what seemed like an eternity, the little protective mechanism in his head that had been coping so well so far trying desperately to block out their meaning. And failing miserably. Because no matter how hard he'd tried and succeeded in his denial of what _he _was to him - _a long standing fishing buddy? The best friend?_ -, the uncomfortable truth was now staring Ennis down in the eyes. Ennis had meant more than that to _him._ Considerably more. _Like maybe mor'n anythin'? _He slammed down the treacherous little thought nagging at the back of his mind. Not now.

He was barely conscious of his progress down the stairs with the shirts rolled up tight, of handing them briefly to _his _Ma to place them in a paper bag, of saying goodbyes and leaving. His autopilot mercifully kicked in again: the side door opened, the engine started, the car backed out, driving. Outta here. Fast.

Ennis didn't fully register where he was going until he was at his improbable destination, stopped and cut off the engine. He got out of the car, left hand still clutching the paper bag that he'd never let go since taking it from _his _Ma, took a couple of dozen of faltering steps up the shallow swell of a hill and stopped dead, hardly breathing.

The Twist family's plot was at the far end of the tiny country graveyard, fenced off with sheep wire: a lone mound adorned with a bunch of unnaturally bright plastic flowers, a simple wooden cross like an exclamation mark, devastatingly small and inconsequential against vast and barren Wyoming plains beyond.

"_Jaaack_…" Ennis finally let the name go free from his chest with the breath he had probably been holding since he had found out that Jack was gone.

It was then that an oddly plain realization hit him with an undeniable clarity that it was all over_._ It was the end of Jack. And of the stoic Ennis that he had known all these years too. 'Cause, even if Ennis had never admitted to himself before, not evenonce, he knew then that it was Jackwho'd been the reason he could stand it all, all 'em years.

And then came the pain, the one he'd feared all 'em years, knocking Ennis down on his knees in front of the cross. In front of Jack. The first wave left him faintly surprised that his heart was not in the pungent vomit puddle he was staring down at. The next took the little resolve left in him to try to stand it. And Ennis knew that he couldn't anymore, not without _his_ Jack...

* * *

_Music: Nothing Compares To You, Sinead O'Connor_


	2. Chapter 2 The Left Branch

PART II - THE LEFT BRANCH

**Pairing:** Jack/Ennis  
**Genre:** Canon based AU; inspired by the short story by "The Roads of Destiny"  
**Word count**: 2,272  
**Disclaimer:** The characters do not belong to me, the plot may be similar to others'. It's something I just had to write down. No rent is sought from it, I'm just sharing with the likeminded crowd.  
**Feedback:** I´d appreciate it, thank you!

Huge thanks to my beta EsmeAmelia.

* * *

"You are too much for me, Ennis, you son of a whoreson bitch. I wish I knew how to quit you!"

The words stabbed like a dull rusty pitchfork through Ennis' guts and he fought back reflexively.

"Then why don'tcha? Why don'tcha let me be, huh? It's 'cause a you that I'm like this – am nothin', am nowhere…"

But even while he was throwing the hurtful words back at Jack, Ennis' thoughts were desperately clawing at the notion of Jack quitting him. _No! Not possible!!_ His mind refused to register such a premise.

A sudden wave of cold dread blackened his vision for what seemed like just a moment, but in that moment a whirlwind of images flashed through Ennis's mind, plain and inescapable, worse than what he had always believed to be his worst nightmares: tire irons, Jack's broken and bloody face, a postcard with a red stamp "Deceased" across, a plain wooden cross against the grey of wind-licked Wyoming plains and Ennis himself, two old dirty shirts clutched to his chest, broken and dead to the world.

Ennis dropped heavily on his knees like he'd been shot, two stinging tears cutting through tightly shut eyes. He didn't care that Jack could see his tears, for the first time ever. He just couldn't absorb the vision of a possibility he just knew he would never be able to withstand.

Jack was already on his knees beside him, holding him tight, whispering soothingly "'S alright, Ennis, 's alright.", but Ennis could hear a world of weariness in his voice.

"I cain't stand it no more, Jack! 'M sorry, I cain't…" The words came out in a rush, stumbling over each other and for once Ennis did not make any attempt to hold back. He clung to Jack's chest, with no shame, no reservation, only the desperate wish to erase the sickening images from his mind.

Jack sensed a difference in his voice and froze, then pulled back a little, trying to read his man's face. He probably saw _it_ there too, the difference, because the dull grey sheen in his eyes started melting away and suddenly Ennis was drowning again in the deepest and brightest blue he'd ever known.

"Ennis, 's okay, cowboy, am right here. We'll make it, bud, we will. I promise."

Almost destroyed by the blackest of desperations, then rekindled by a budding hope, very soon their murmurs and caressing touches caught fire and both were ablaze. It was one thing that had never changed through all the years, the passion of their couplings: it would flare up like a wildfire, consuming all, leave them soaring high long after.

They agreed that Ennis would try to sort his things out to meet Jack in September, would borrow Don's cabin again and discuss what they would do and how. Ennis was full of fears and reservations, but he didn't have the heart to thwart the hope that burned so bright again in Jack's eyes. He had not seen this Jack for years, far too many years, laughing easily and so full of life and it left Ennis struggling to gulp down the lump at the back of his throat.

The summer went by in a flurry of preparations of sort. For what, Ennis didn't knowbut didn't want to think much on it either, in case he might have second thoughts. Jack called him twice, to ask _sumthin' 'mportant_ he said, but it didn't fool Ennis for a minute: Jack was just checking on him, to see if he had come up with those second thoughts. He steeled himself and tried to ignore Stoutmire's curious stares, focused instead on the warm fluttering in his guts at Jack's voice that changed from tentative to excited and happy.

The second thoughts and fears started to pay him visits in August. Then came the nightmares and Ennis tried to wipe them out at night with an extra amount of cheap whiskeys he could ill afford. He had a very vague recollection of the horrifying vision that had brought him down on his knees on the last trip with Jack. He was pretty sure, however, that he didn't wanna remember it and hoped that at least listening to what Jack had to say would somehow makeit go away completely. If only Ennis could rid himself of his old fears.

Then Jack called againfrom one of his sales trips, a week before their meeting. Ennis was about to leave for the day when he heard Stoutmire's holler from the doorways of his tiny, scruffy office.

"Del Mar! Call fer you. Yer friend Twist … again." His boss' tone was not unkind, but the last word still made Ennis cringe, the sense of unease like a poisonous snake raising its little ugly head.

He walked over to the house from the driveway where his old truck was parked, fuming and silently cursing Jack for keep calling, regretting he had ever given that careless fucker the phone number. What people might think, him callin' Ennis at work, ev'ry fuckin' month! Might get hisself killed actin' like that!

But Stoutmire seemed to have accepted the story of a fishing buddy going through a rough patch in his family life which Ennis had muttered under his breath after Jack's first call, eyes downcast, blushing violently. Why, it's understandable, seeing as Ennis had gone through one himself and not in a good way either, could share some experience with a friend, the old rancher had reckoned. Now, letting the younger man into his office, he patted Ennis on his shoulder sympathetically and stepped out to give him some privacy.

"'Lo, Jack?"

"Hey, Ennis! Yeah, it's me. Just wanned ta…," he never finished the sentence.

"What the fuck ya think ya doin', Jack, callin' me here ev'ry fuckin' month?" Ennis was furious at his fear as much as at Jack's recklessness, the words rushing out in a spit flying hiss.

There was a silence on the other end in response to Ennis labored breathing. It lasted a little too long and Ennis started worrying.

"Jack? Yer there? Lissen… hmmm… 'm sorry, bud, but yer shouldn't a…"

"It's alright, Ennis, I won't. No worries." Jack voice sounded tired, resigned, made Ennis want to kick himself hard. "Just wanted to tell you 'forehand that I might not be on time to the cabin next week, yer know…"

Ennis froze, panic sipping out of nowhere, spreading through his body, invading his mind. Jack seemed to get the drift immediately - he always seemed to know how Ennis' mind worked, tried to sooth his friend's worry with a rapid fire sweet talk:

"I gotta go ta Houston the day after tomorrow, Ennis, for a trade fair. That sonovabitch L.D. is down with flu or sumethin' and I got no choice, bud. I'll try to get outta there soon's I can, but could be runnin' late. By a day mayhaps? Tell you what: I'll try ta make it half a day, 'key? You wait fer me there, you hear? I'll be there, no matter what. And Ennis? We gonna make it, friend, you and me, don't you go 'round doubtin' it. Jus' wait fer me."

And Ennis did. He waited at the cabin for two days. Two fuckin' days.

Jack never turned up.

Ennis didn't know what to think, didn't know what to do, what to expect or who to turn to. For once he felt utterly helpless. And half crazed with worry. He refused to believe that Jack had given up on him. But then the only other possibility he could come up with was that something had happened to Jack which he refused to think on with the same fervor. Almost. And what Ennis didn't want to think on or feel, he drowned in whiskey at night. Then he would work himself to sheer exhaustion at the ranch during the day to dull out the unwanted thoughts.

By the end of the fifth day when Ennis had finally made up his mind to call Jack came the call.

"Del Mar! Call for you." Stoutmire sounded strangely apologetic, his eyes not meeting Ennis' when he walked in. "It's Missus Twist."

Ennis' heart stopped for what seemed like an eternity, bile coming up to his throat. He leaned heavily on the desk and picked up the phone.

"'Lo?"

"Is this Ennis Del Mar?" The voice on the other end of the line was unexpectedly high-pitched, almost girly. And quivery, like she tried hard to sound cool and matter of fact, but was failing.

"Yes, m'am, speaking."

"Mr. Del Mar, I am Lureen Twist, Jack's wife…"

For Ennis, the silence that followed lasted much longer that it actually came to pass, like forever. But he already knew that he didn't want to hear what would come after.

"Jack was in accident." She sniffed, then said quickly, like the words were poison and she had to spit them all out of her mouth as fast as possible. "He wanted me to call and tell you that he was sorry… That he didn't keep his promise to you. Kept you waiting… on your fishing trip?"

"Where's he?" He didn't want to know. He had to know.

Ennis' head was swimming and he could hardly hear her voice. Which was turning whiny and tearful again.

"Jack… he died. In the hospital. Four days ago. He was heading to his parents' place in Wyoming. Was in a big rush, driving at night. Police says he probably fell asleep and drove off the road. He was too broken, the car was a mess. He was conscious only for a few hours … before he passed…. He was only thirty nine." The little girl voice whispered and drifted off.

Ennis closed his eyes, breathing heavily,swallowed down the bile that started pooling in his mouth. No, it couldn't be. It had to be a mistake. Or a prank of some sort. Or another nightmare of his. Maybe if he tried to open his eyes now, he would wake up and it would go away. He did, but right then the tearful little voice on the other end of the line came back:

"Before he lost it… consciousness that is, Jack said he wanted his ashes to be scattered on Broken Mountain or sumthin' like that. He said you'd know where it was. Mr. Del Mar, do you? Could you possibly come and help to … to do that, as Jack wanted?... Mr. Del Mar? Mr. Del Mar, are you still there?"

Ennis' legs started buckling under him and he slid slowly on the floor by the desk, the weight of all past fears and present reality coming down on him at once, predictable but unavoidable, like a landslide.

In the end, Jack left him anyway, just like he had always feared. And not 'cause a tire irons or a bunch of old timers. Not even the little wife of the neighbor rancher or even whatever it was in Mexico that Jack'd found. No, it was him, Ennis, who's the cause that Jack was…. no more. He shoulda let Jack show him his sweet life much earlier, not driving him to the point of where both had been desperately clawing to the crumbling carcass of their …. _What, friendship? More?.._ Whatever it was that they had been to each other all them years…

He had thought that nothing could bring Ennis del Mar on his knees, nothing - not the death of his parents at the tender age of twelve, not his older siblings leaving him out on his own at the age of eighteen, not Alma taking his girls away from him. Not even Jack Fuckin' Twist, with his boundless hope and something else unnamable, fluid and almost palpable, in his dizzyingly blue eyes.

Although truth be told, he had done hurt Ennis badly a few times too. Like the time he'd disappeared without a word for four whole fuckin' years, right after the Brokeback. Ennis had started thinking he wouldn't be able to stand the hurt much longer when the first postcard had arrived. And then just like that, everything was alright. Ennis forgave him those four fuckin' miserable years the moment he laid his eyes on Jack again: there he stood at the bottom of the stairs to Ennis' shabby apartment, his smile huge, like Ennis had just promised him the best thing a his life, sumthin' he'd always wanted.

Or the last time they had parted at the trailhead, when Jack had spat the word "Mexico" bitterly, under his breath. That one hurt like the mother fucker and Ennis had thought for a moment that he'd never be able to forgive 'n forget, that he would kill that sonavabitch right there 'n then. But then he did, forgot it, jus' a few moments later when the sickening thought that Jack might possibly quit him had sunk in.

So in the end, itwas not Jack who brought Ennis on to his knees. He didn't, never could. Never would have done such a thing to Ennis in the first place. Not Jack, with his never-dying silly fantasies, his heart the size of Wyoming and a pair of strong arms that had always been there to catch and hold Ennisjust when he needed it most. Always… No, it was not Jack in the end. It was the bone chilling and crystal clear realization that Jack was no more. Nowhere. Not later, not ever. And Ennis couldn't do a fuckin' thing about it now, even if he'd kill himself trying.

* * *

Music: How Would I Live, Trisha Yearwood


	3. Chapter 3 The Right Branch

PART III – THE RIGTH BRANCH

**Pairing:** Jack/Ennis  
**Genre:** Canon based AU; inspired by a short story by called "The Roads of Destiny"  
**Word count**: 3,453  
**Disclaimer:** The characters do not belong to me, the plot may be similar to others'. It's something I just had to write down. No rent is sought from it, I'm just sharing with the likeminded crowd.

**Feedback:** I´d appreciate it, thank you!

Huge thanks to my beta EsmeAmelia.

* * *

"See you in August then, Ennis?"

It was like a dirty stab with a dull knife in his guts to hear Jack sounding so small. So wounded. Like Ennis had just ripped his chest open, pulled his guts out and threw them in the dirt. And the vibrant shining blue of Jack's eyes that had always drawn him like a stupid moth to the flame - that was now gone too. It had been there, not even ten minutes ago, pouring out generously and lavishing on Ennis with its warmth and riches and whatever else it was in there, unnamed, and now it's gone. 'Cause of him. He had wiped it out clear, just with one fuckin' sentence. Just with his thoughts, that he could never put into proper words, but Jack could read 'em all the same. Jack always seemed to understand whatever Ennis didn't, couldn't say. So why he didn't understand him now? That Ennis didn't mean to hurt him? Never wanted to hurt Jack, ever? Isn't it why he had been trying to stay away from Jack all them years, to keep him safe and unhurt?

That he just couldn't have him stay, right here right now, not with his daughters sitting in his truck waiting for him? What he's supposed to do now? Jack Fuckin' Twist, why should he have come at a drop of a hat like that? Why should he have read so much into the damn card? Why had _he_ sent Jack the card in the first place? He had been stupid, that's why, feeling free and heady for a moment, stepping out of the courtroom, and acting on a reckless impulse. So now what? Let Jack drive another fourteen hours, back to where he'd just come from?

Jack was already sitting in his truck, starting the engine, not looking at Ennis. Not anymore. It hurt like a bitch and he thought he was going to throw up. Suddenly, a flurry of images and sounds crashed on him, terrifying in their inescapable and ruthless vividness: Jack's smashed truck, broken and bloodied Jack inside, eyes open but not seeing, not anymore, a small woman voice saying he was sorry he couldn't make it and made you wait, said he wanted his ashes be scattered on Broken Mountain or somethin' like that, that you would know where that is, 'preciate if you could come and help with his last wish...

Ennis gasped, took one shaky step towards Jack's truck that was starting to back out from the drive, stumbled and fell heavily on his knees and hands. The truck jerked and stopped abruptly, Jack jumping out and sprinting toward him even before the engine died.

"Ennis, c'mon cowboy, what is it? Lookit me! Look at me, Ennis, dammit!! You hurt somewhere? What's wrong?? Talk to me, bud! Talk to me… Please, Ennis…"

Jack's voice was full of life and fire, catching a bit with concern for him, for Ennis, that unnamed thing pouring out of the huge blue eyes like through a broken dam, staining his cheeks, wetting his lashes. Ennis was aware of Jack's arms around him, holding him close, helping him up, out in the open, with his daughters not a couple a dozen of steps away, waiting for him. But for once he didn't give a damn. He just needed to feel Jack, to touch him, be sure that he was safe, that he was… alive. 'Cause he knew then that he could stand anything, he had been able to stand everything, with Jack….

"Jack… Don't leave… Please…Can… can you wait?"

He wanted to say more, to let Jack know that a bit of him died every time he saw Jack hurting, to say sorry that he'd hurt him, that he was the last person Ennis ever wanted to hurt. But as usual he couldn't get the words past his tightly pressed lips. Ennis groaned in frustration, looked searchingly in Jack's eyes, his own pleading, desperate.

Jack understood it as usual, signed wearily.

"'S alright, Ennis, 's okay, I'll wait… Gosh, you'll be the death a me one day, cowboy."

They agreed that Jack would wait for him at Wind River Bar on the 789, just outside of Riverton, at the edge of the Indian Reservation. Ennis would take his daughters to lunch and movies, then would come to pick Jack up, after dropping off Junior and Jenny at Alma's. That would be in three hours, four max. Then they would talk. Jack looked tired, but somehow relieved, even if he could hardly make his cowboy look at him for longer than half a second at a time. Ennis was skittish and nervous as hell, could stop neither his hands nor eyes from wandering aimlessly around for just one minute.

*

* *

During the lunch her Daddy hardly touched his burger, just sat there drinking his beer, then coffee after coffee, like he'd been thirsty for a year. Jenny was talking merrily away about the school, her friends Linda and Marybeth, about Ms Dorothy the new head teacher, how young and pretty she was, and that she would introduce Ms Dorothy to Daddy and he would like her right away, would he come to the school next Friday to pick Jenny. Junior cut her off right then and told her to let Daddy be, that Daddy would hardly like Ms Dorothy 'cause she was too young and too… too fancy in her pretty dresses and shoes. She had been watching her Daddy closely from under her lashes, saying nothing, until she thought he was about to have enough of Jenny's silliness.

"Will Mr. Twist be waiting on you, Daddy, if we go to the movies?" Junior finally asked in a small voice when he was paying the bill. She did not look up at him, her eyes never left the paper napkin she had been fiddling with.

Her Daddy froze for a moment, hot flush staining his face and neck.

"I reckon…"

He looked like he didn't know what else to say, but he didn't have to as Jenny jumped in excitedly right then:

"Isn't he so handsome, your friend Mr. Twist that is? Daddy? And his eyes are so blue, the bluest I've ever seen, Daddy, bluer that even Ms Dorothy's. Is he married, Daddy? Do you think he would like Ms Dorothy? Maybe we can…"

"Hush now, Jenny!" Junior glared at her sister. "You and your Ms Dorothy! Mr. Twist would NOT like her. He's Daddy's friend and Daddy wouldn't like her. So he wouldn't neither… Now, you've got me a terrible headache, Jenny, you with your jabber. I don't think I can go to the movies now… Daddy, can we go home now? I said keep quiet, Jenny! It's 'cause a you!"

Speechless, with mouth agape, Ennis stared at Junior, who sat there red faced, angry and embarrassed, lips trembling, trying desperately to calm down crying Jenny. She had never gone at her younger sister like that before, at least not in front of other people, even if "other people" was just their Daddy. She wanted to cry with Jenny too, 'cause she really really wanted to go to the movies with him, just to be with him for some more time, even with him being not himself today, all lost in thoughts, paying hardly no attention to her and Jenny. But she had seen how his face had all lit up when his friend's truck rolled up the driveway, how wide and bright he smiled and hurried to meet him, hugged him tight, as if never wanting to let go. He looked so… so… happy.

Junior had rarely seen her Daddy like that, maybe a few times, when she and Jenny had been real little and Daddy had taken them out for a day with his horses. But he had never been like that with Mommy, and Junior thought it was somehow Mommy's fault. Why, she and Jenny could make him happy, well, even if only sometimes, so why couldn't she? What's wrong with her?

She loved her Mommy too, sure 'nough, but Mommy was different. She could be made happy by lots of small things. Like when they went out shopping with her, or just window shopping, which was more often the case than not. Or when she hurried off to the groceries store where she worked, looking all flushed and excited, smiling and blushing all to herself. Junior thought that Mommy was being silly, but that was alright too, if that made her happy.

But Daddy, her Daddy rarely smiled wide and free and Junior didn't know why and what to do about it. All she _could_ do was to look out for things she would note that he liked and then give them to him whenever possible. If she could.

So now she had met Daddy's friend Jack and seen that he too could make Daddy happy. He himself looked so happy, so handsome and so…so… like he's sparklin' or somethin'. And he smiled so friendly at her and Jenny too when Daddy introduced them. Like he had known them for years and was happy to see them again. And he'd told them to call him Jack. _Jack_. She liked his name too. She couldn't help but smile back to Jack, which didn't happen very often, not at all, as far as Junior went. And she hated to admit it, but Jenny was right, she had also never seen anyone with such beautiful blue eyes before. Maybe Daddy hadn't either, so that's why he liked his friend so much and was real happy to see Jack. If it was not impolite to stare, she could probably just sit and look at Jack's eyes for hours. Junior blushed and scolded herself for such a silly thought.

Then something had happened and Mr. Twist - _Jack _- was leaving. Junior was startled to see how his face and gait had changed from one minute to the other: he looked like a li'l puppy who had been shown his favorite toy, then right away kicked out from the stairs by a big dirty boot, all broken and confused. It was some distance away, but Junior thought Jack was about to cry and it almost broke her heart. Then she looked at Daddy and her breath had caught in her throat: he was standing with his back to her, but she could tell from the slope of his shoulders, his clenching and unclenching hands that he was just as broken as his friend. Then he made one staggering step towards the rearing truck and fell heavily on his knees and hands, like _he_ was the li'l puppy who's been kicked out of the house. Junior let out a little cry, wrestled open the heavy door of her Daddy's truck, where she and Jenny had been waiting for him, jumped out and made a few steps towards him.

But Jack was quicker. He jumped out of his truck while it was still moving and got to her Daddy in five large strides. Afterwards Junior thought she had never seen a grown-up man looked that scared in her whole life. He dropped on his knees besides her Daddy, gathered him in his arms, picked him up, tried to look in his eyes. Then he just held him close, saying something quietly she couldn't hear, but knew that it was soothing, comforting. Something her Daddy probably needed too, but couldn't hardly get from no one. Surely not from anyone she knew. Not even from her and Jenny, no matter how hard they'd try.

She returned to the truck, climbed up, and quietly closed the door, trying not to look in the rear view mirror. She brushed away her sister's insistent question about Daddy and what had happened.

"Keep quiet, Jenny, would you? Jus' wait for a few minutes, Daddy will be right back and we will go out for lunch. He jus' needs to talk for a minute with Mr. Twist… with Jack."

All through the lunch, Junior could see that Daddy was distracted, hardly touched his food and kept staring out of the window. She guessed he couldn't wait to get back to talk some more with his friend Jack, who he had said was waiting for him at a bar just out of town. They had hardly exchanged a few words at Daddy's trailer, seeing as Jenny and she had been waiting on him to go out for lunch. So now they were done with lunch, she thought it would only be fair that Daddy could get back together with his friend… who could make her Daddy happy again.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Jenny, stop being such a cry-baby! I have a headache 'cause a you! We'd better go home now. We'll go see movies with Daddy next time. Daddy, can we go home now, please?"

*

* *

Ennis broke all his speed records trying to get to the Wind River Bar as fast as his old truck would take him, cutting through a couple of red lights and overtaking more than one car on his quest. His head was still spinning at the turn of events.

Junior had seemed to have a terrible headache and insisted that he take her and Jenny back to Alma's after lunch, instead of going the movies as they had planned. She had been unusually adamant about her headache, repeating it over and over again, saying it was 'cause of her sister's incessant blabber and then her crying. She had looked like she wanted to cry herself, but she held it together well. Till they had got to Alma's and she had to go through the whole explanation with her Mommy. She had broken down then and run upstairs crying.

But ten minutes later, when Ennis had been at his truck, about to be leaving, Junior rushed out of the house, threw herself at him and whispered a tearful am-so-sorry-Daddy in his ear. Then she had taken a step back and said very softly, never looking up to meet Ennis' eyes: "Please say hi to Jack, Daddy. I really like him." And then she was gone.

He had been dumbstruck. It suddenly dawned on him that Junior had not had a headache after all, like she kept saying. She had set up that whole charade, 'cause she wanted him to go back to Jack. But why?? What did she know about Jack? And… him? 'Cept that Ennis went fishing with him from time to time… Had she seen…? Nah, couldn't be, she was just a kid… He swallowed down a lump in his throat and felt all warm and lightheaded, remembering her words about Jack. _Yeah, li'l darlin', me too, me too…_

Ennis noticed the little crowd in from of the bar while still half a mile away. The next thing that registered in his mind was Jack's blue truck on one side of the crowd, parked neatly at the pavement. When he realized that the crowd was looking at something on the ground, Ennis jammed the gas to the floor full force, then the brakes too a few moments later, and threw his violently protesting truck right in front of Jack's. He jumped out while the truck was still moving, shoved aside an elderly man and a woman who were blocking his view and stopped dead in his tracks.

Jack was hatless, on the ground, face white as a sheet, hands clutching at his midsection. Something dark and sticky by the look of it was seeping through his fingers, spreading under him on the asphalt. A man in old stained overalls was tapping carefully on Jack's shoulder trying to make him to open his eyes.

"Jack, open your eyes, would you, son? Lissen, the ambulance is on its way now, and the police too, don't you give up on me now. Stay with me! Open your eyes, Jack…"

Ennis crashed on his knees besides Jack, pushed the other man's hand away and put both of his own over Jack's. The thick dark wetness started oozing through Ennis' fingers almost at once. He felt like his was about to explode and die. He would, happily, if that's what Jack needed right now. Ennis swallowed hard, opened his mouth once, twice, the sound only coming at the third attempt.

"Jack, bud, it's me, Ennis. Whatcha done now, huh, cowboy? Lookit yer… Open your eyes and talk to me, Jack. Talk to me for Christ's sake! Open your eyes, Jack!! Open…"

The dark lashes against pale as death cheeks fluttered and lifted, painfully slow, revealing Jack's eyes, huge and dark and bottomless, liquid with pain and that unnamed thing.

"Ennisss… I knew you'd come…. Hoped you would…Hoped we would…"

Jack's voice trailed off, eyelids lowered again as if to keep the pain from spilling and staining everything, everyone around, like his blood. Ennis panicked, brought his bloodstained hands up and cupped Jack's face, not caring what people might think.

"Am here now, bud, 'm right here and ain't going nowhere. Stay with me, Jack! Stay!! Please! Jaack!!.."

But even as he begged and pleaded, he knew that Jack wouldn't. Couldn't, no matter how much both of them wanted. Something dreadful happened to Jack while Ennis was not there and as a result Jack was leaving him. For good.

Jack's eyes fluttered open, but the look he gave Ennis was unfocused.

"Ennis, 'm sorry… 'm failin' yer now… Wannid ta show yer so much… the sweet life…. Ennisss… Lift me up…"

He closed his eyes again, breathing heavily, bloody foam forming at the left corner of his mouth. Ennis skidded on his knees to the side of Jack's head, lifted him up carefully, rested his head and shoulders against his chest and held him close, possessive.

An eternity seemed to have passed when Jack opened his eyes again, craned his neck to look in Ennis' eyes, and said, loud and clear: "Ennis, you been the best thing that ever happened to me, friend. You know it, right? I want you to know…I ……"

He never finished the sentence. But didn't have to, 'cause Ennis knew.

Ennis was only vaguely aware of the ambulance arriving and paramedics taking Jack away from his arms, of police officers talking to the witnesses, then to him, trying to find out about Jack's kin and contact details. He gave them Jack's telephone number and address in Texas in a quiet, lifeless voice that made the officer look strangely at him and ask if he was okay. Ennis looked blankly at him and said he was okay in the same colorless voice.

He stood there for a long time, but didn't hear all the details about the brawl in the bar and how Jack stood up to a bunch of reservation youngsters when they tried to abuse one of their own. It wouldn't have probably ended that way, had Jack not got out of the bar to fetch his travel bag from the truck half an hour later. By the time the bartender and a couple of patrons got to Jack's car, having heard two gunshots, it was already too late.

When Ennis' brain finally worked itself out from the stupor and started functioning again, he was sitting in his truck, stuck in a ditch by the roadside, in the middle of nowhere. He didn't know where he was and how long he had been driving or stuck here. The road was empty as far as the eyes could see, curving slightly left into the horizon, raw sienna and rust defying the invasion of dark grayish brown, like soot, in a struggle between twilight and night.

A pungent smell in the truck registered with Ennis, together with the nauseously sour and bitter taste in his mouth, and he looked down at himself. His front and lap were covered with drying vomit – probably whatever little he had managed to force down at lunch. He wrenched open the truck door, almost falling out, made a few shaky steps around the car and laid down on the scares burnt patch of grass by the roadside. His body would have probably felt fractionally better, physically, had he cried, but the tears wouldn't come, for the enormous and all-enveloping emptiness that was numbing all his senses. He felt nothing, could think of nothing. Except that he wanted to die.

Ennis stared unblinking at the dimming sky above him till his eyes felt coarse like sandpaper, then closed his eyes, for what he thought just a second. And when he opened them again, just like that, the daylight was gone.

* * *

Music: Ne Me quitte pas (If You Go Away), by Sting

Sting: .com/watch?v=DXQkplGz05c


	4. Chapter 4 The Road Beyond

**PART IV – THE ROAD BEYOND**

**Pairing:** Jack/Ennis

**Genre:** Canon based AU; inspired by a short story by called "The Roads of Destiny"

**Word count**: 4,828

**Warnings:** Angsty

**Disclaimer:** The characters do not belong to me, the plot may be similar to others'. It's something I just had to write down. No rent is sought from it, I'm just sharing with the likeminded crowd.

**Synopsis:** What would have happened if something has prompted Ennis to choose a different path at different junctions of their difficult and separate lives?

Huge thanks to my beta EsmeAmelia.

* * *

"Well, see you around then, I guess." Ennis wondered feebly why it took him all his effort to utter just these simple couple of words.

"Right," said Jack and there was nothing else to do but leave in opposite directions.

The sun was a pallid smear against the sky bleached of all colors, as if the wind had wiped out all the luminous blue, brilliant white and shimmering gold that had been lavishing over them most of the summer. Ennis shouldn't probably have taken that last look at Jack, but he did. And hit the end of the slow and fated headlong fall he had been in since the moment it had sunk in with him that they were coming down. Jack's eyes were bottomless pools of mixed emotions – hope, disbelief, fear and something else unnamed.

Ennis turned away and started walking, putting one foot in front of the other, not really seeing where he was going, each step straining on the invisible thread that had bound them together the whole summer, stretching it further and further, to the limits, till it felt like his guts were being pulled out, inch by inch, with each faltering step away. He heard rather than saw Jack's truck roaring angrily by, throwing a wisp of dust in his face like a spat that made him wince reflectively, eyes shut tight for a second.

And in that second, a flood of images exploded behind his eyelids, lucid and terrifying like in his worst nightmares: Jack on the ground, a dark red sticky stain spreading under him, Jack saying Ennis-you-have-been-the-best-thing, then closing his eyes, his body going slack in Ennis' arms, leaving Ennis with nothing. Nothing to look forward to…

Ennis stumbled and fell heavily on his knees, tried to retch his guts out, but nothing would come except the moisture that burnt his eyes like acid and a choked up whisper. "Damnit, Jack! Damnit!!" He pounded the ground with vehemence, smashing his fist into a bloody pulp, but didn't really feel the pain, for the one in his chest was greater.

He was still trying to find his breath and bearings when he heard the tires screeching to an abrupt stop besides him, the door swinging open and Jack's fearful voice calling out to him. "Ennis!" And then he was kneeling next to him, gathering him up, trying to look into Ennis's eyes.

"Ennis? Ennis, lookit me!! What is it, cowboy?? You hurt? Talk to me, Ennis, goddamnit!! What's wrong???"

Ennis wanted to tell Jack that losing his parents, especially his Ma, was already too much for one person to bear and he couldn't lose Jack too, and he couldn't stand Jack leavin' him behind, like his own brother and sister did, either. He wanted to tell Jack that everything had been wrong since the moment he learnt that they were goin' down the mountain, that he was sure as fuck sorry for the dirty punch, that he knew exactly how Jack felt about leavin', that maybe, just maybe, they should try and figure out something. But he couldn't, just like always. So he just looked in Jack's eyes and whispered, "Don't go. Please?"

The brilliant smile that lit up Jack's face and eyes almost made Ennis howl with relief. Jack let out a shuddering breath, picked up Ennis's hat from the ground, and put it back on his head.

"You bet. Wanna a lift home, cowboy?"

*

* *

The room was almost dark, except for the soft buttery glow of the bedside lamp and the shimmering light from the enormous orange moon pouring through the big corner window. And also the emerald green blinking dots over the pale fluorescent under-light of the complicated medical apparatus installed at the head of the king size bed, tubes and leads attached to its single occupant supported on a stack of pillows in half sitting position.

Ennis woke up with a start, looked around disoriented. He had to doze off at some point in time, bone tired and… _No, not now_! He couldn't let himself wallow in it now, for neither his sake nor for Jack's. Especially for Jack's. _His_ Jack, who was lying on the bed, _their _bed, bony arms over the neatly tucked blanket, lashes like dark shadows on the pale haggard cheeks, what was left of his thick mane of dark brown hair, now salt and pepper, matted with sweat, breath labored and pained.

His beautiful and brave Jack. Yes, Ennis could say it now, even out loud, even to Jack, that this was how he thought on Jack: beautiful. Still was to him and still so brave, so true, after almost thirty-six years. Even now, when the time was running out on him, on them both, marking Jack's once strong and fit body mercilessly with the stamp of physical corrosion, he was still the same to Ennis. Always had been, regardless.

Ennis stretched out his hand to touch Jack's, but froze halfway as Jack's eyes suddenly flew open and stared directly in his. His eyes were dark and liquid, no traces of drug induced haziness, and thoughtful. Like he was trying to remember something.

"Ennis?" Jack's voice was strong and clear too, if only raw.

Ennis rocked quickly up from his half lying position in the easy chair beside the bed and skidded toward Jack, taking Jack's hand in both of his.

"Right here, darlin'. How you feelin'? Need anythin'?"

Jack smiled tiredly, squeezed Ennis' hand, their fingers interlacing easy, just like always.

"Nah, nothin'. Jus' wanna ask you somethin'." He hesitated, as if trying to formulate the question in his head before asking then continued:

" 'Member the day we came down from Brokeback? Back in '63?"

Ennis didn't know why, but the question did not catch him by surprise.

"A 'couse I remember, Jack." He brought Jack's withered hand to his lips, tried to swallow down the lump that started swelling again at the back of his throat. "I 'member everythin', ev'ry moment of it, li'l darlin'."

*

* *

_That day in August 1963, when they were forced to come down early from the mountain, bringing to an abrupt end their newly found mysterious and intoxicating world, Ennis couldn't let go after all. He tried, honest to God, he did, but couldn't. Couldn't get rid of the thought that something might happen to Jack and he wouldn't be there and God knew what and Jack would be…Well, he just couldn't, simple as that. So he let Jack drive him back to Riverton, where, in his clipped and terse way, painfully blushing and biting his lips, he tried to talk Alma into delaying the wedding till the following year. When she wouldn't budge, Ennis married her in November as planned. Jack stood by him through the whole ceremony, smiling sweetly to Alma and the handful of bride and groom's relatives and guests, the smile never reaching his eyes. That night he got pissed drunk at a local bar and into a fistfight that grounded him for a month with two busted ribs. But he stayed put in Riverton. Rented a tiny room over the laundry, worked as a wrangler with Ennis at Elwood Hi-Top in Washakie County, something like hope still smoldering in his eyes, every time Ennis dared to look that close at him. But then that light went out too, the day Ennis told Jack that Alma was expecting. The following week Jack was gone - no goodbye, no forwarding address, no explanation. _

_Not that Ennis needed one - he felt goddamn awful. Guilty as shit and helpless. Hopeless. Thought he'd had never felt worse before. But what he could do? It was expected of him, right? That was his God-given duty for Christ's sake and Jack had to understand that, he thought. But most of all he was worried, shit, he was half crazed with worry that something might happen to Jack. But all he could do was to try to locate Jack in any limited way he could, given the circumstances. All to no avail: Jack had simply vanished. And Ennis got more clammed up and troubled, drinking and getting in brawls that left him battered and bitter with each passing month. _

_Then by the end of the fourth month, there came the first news about Jack. Ennis would never forget that day, both as one of his worst scares and his stroke of luck._

_It was six o'clock in the morning and Alma was hovering around the tiny kitchen with Junior on one hip, Ennis was getting ready to leave for work, when he heard a car pulling up in the drive of his ramshackle of a ranch house, ancient and wind battered, in the middle of nowhere. He looked out of the window and froze: a police car. Without the slightest doubt Ennis knew what it was gonna be all about. It took Ennis all the willpower he possessed not to rush through the door, down the three rickety stairs of the porch, grab the police officer who was getting out of the car and shake out whatever the news he'd brought with him. Or slam it back down his throat, before it could even pass his lips._

_Instead, he opened the door carefully, like it was made of thin glass, and stood there in the doorway waiting for the other man to walk up to the house. _

"_Mornin', sir. Ennis Del Mar? Officer Murphy, Fremont County Police." _

_Officer Murphy, young and eager, a country boy just like Ennis, flashed the badge at him and continued in a hurry: _

"_I need ta ask yer if yer know a Jack Twist. There been an accident in Kansas'n he was …"_

_Ennis didn't hear the rest, took the words already uttered like a bullet, his lanky frame froze rigid, one hand clutching at midsection, all color draining from his face as the world suddenly tilted on its axis, morphing into one black-and-white slow-motion cartoon. _

"…_Mr. Del Mar? Yer 'lright, sir?" Officer Murphy, who came into the picture again, took two steps up and put a hand on Ennis' shoulder, suddenly concerned._

_Ennis swallowed hard three times before he found his voice again, but even then it was but a faltering whisper, words breaking apart:_

"_Has he… Is he… dead?"_

"_Oh, no, sir! No, he isn't. Sorry you got me wrong. He's in the Greenwood County Hospital, Eureka, Kansas." The officer shook his head reassuringly, then added cautiously, "But they say he is in a bad way, been unconscious since yesterday when they brought him in. They found no papers on him, no money, 'cept a general delivery postcard in his jacket pocket, with yer name and Riverton Wyoming as the address. That's how we've located you, sir. He's a friend a yours?"_

"_Yeah! Me 'n Jack, we're friends. Real good friends. Lived here in Riverton. Left four months ago, didn't say where he's headin'. I tried to look out for him, but…" _

_It took Ennis an enormous effort to rein in the relief that washed over him like a tidal wave, breaking down the dam that had been holding in check all his words and bearings for as long as he'd known himself. It took him even more effort that he'd never imagined he would be able to summon to get three days off, to do the explaining to Alma, to drive twelve hours each way, to deal with the police and the hospital, but in the end to get Jack back to Riverton, battered to an inch of his death and with a lingering concussion. _

_Jack never told him what had actually happened, except that he had been bull riding at the rodeo grounds at Strong City, near Cottonwood Falls, got into a fight and ended up in a ditch outside of the town. His truck went missing, together with the little money he'd earned and all of his possessions. But that was alright, he was in Riverton again and Ennis could keep an eye on the dumbass, help him out while he was recovering, till he could take care of himself again. Even if it meant that Ennis had to work two, sometimes three, jobs, sixteen hours a day, seven days a week for over two fuckin' months._

_Jack stayed. Worked at ranches alongside Ennis again when he recovered enough to carry his full load. Little by little the light in Jack's eyes came back, together with his optimism, his bitchy banter and his smiles. And his impossible ideas. To which Ennis just had to put a stop before something – _anything - _could happen to that li'l shithead. And that's when he told Jack that Alma was expecting Jenny. _

_That time, it was Ennis who ended up with a shiner. It hurt like a sonovabitch, but it felt nothing compared to how the look on Jack's face made him feel. Like Ennis had just opened Jack's chest with his bare hands and ripped Jack's heart out, but all Jack did was look at him sadly and ask, "Why you done it, Ennis?" That's how Ennis felt inside. _

_But what the fuck else he could do? To keep up the appearances of his supposedly happily married life which was faltering for no specific reason, to prove to Alma and everybody else who might look that he was not spending _all_ his time either with his buddy Jack Twist or working. With Jack fuckin' Twist too. That line of thought had to be nipped in the bud afore it turned ugly. 'Specially for Jack. Jack who flirted with girls alright, when they came down on him hard like bees on honey, even dated once in a blue moon, but refused to settle down with any of them. _

_So Ennis felt a huge relief that Jack had finally put his hands on him. It felt almost like a blessing. But that feeling was short lived too, 'cause the next day Jack was gone. And that time Ennis thought it was for good. _

_The _life_ he'd built for himself with Alma started going apart at the seams quickly after that day. By the end of the first year, they were hardly talking, mostly because Ennis worked extra long hours again, more often than not would be drunk by the time he got home, sometimes bloodied and bashed, and Alma, without a word, would toss a pillow and a threadbare coverlet on the squeaky couch in the living room, close the bedroom door behind her. They never talked about Jack after he'd gone, but the longer they pretended that nothing had happened with Jack, the more it was obvious that it had all to do with Jack. Like he was Ennis's engine, and once removed, Ennis was left operating by inertia. _

_Alma never said what she thought of it all, she just decided one day that she had had enough, divorced Ennis and married the grocer in Riverton, taking with her Junior, three, and Jenny, one and a bit. Ennis thought he had nothing left to live for, except backbreaking work during the day to pay for the child support, cheap whiskey at night, and bittersweet dreams of things that were never meant to be. _

_Then one day, out of the blue, Ennis got a call from Texas. _

_A high-pitched girly voice hesitantly introduced itself as Lureen Newsome Twist, Jack's wife. Ennis's heart stopped beating for what seemed like eternity, the breath caught in his throat, head spinning. The voice then proceeded to give Ennis, in a heavy Southern drawl, a long winded, teary and apologetic account that was half lost on Ennis. The long and short of it was that Jack been thrown and stomped while bull-riding, 'cause he was hell bent to ride whenever he possibly could like he was looking for his death, so he was in the hospital now and needed to be taken care of for a few months or maybe longer and she was due to be deliverin' their baby boy in a month and can't take care of Jack just now and neither could her parents and that she called Jack's parent's in Lightning Flats, talked to his father who said his Ma was sickly, so they couldn't come 'n take Jack back either, so she was wondering that maybe Ennis could possibly help them out for a while, seeing as he was Jack's best friend, or so Jack been sayin' all the time, and of course her father would be happy to pick up all the costs, whatever they would be, just please please Mr. Del Mar, come and help would you, cause Jack's in a bad way and… and … she just didn't know what else she could possibly do to help him in her state. And then she broke down, sobbing and saying am sorry, am so sorry. _

_All the response she got from Ennis was "where is he" and "how I get there."_

_Two days later Ennis was in Childress, Texas. Two weeks later, when Jack was in a condition to travel in a piece of shit that was Ennis's truck, both of them were back in Riverton where Ennis once again dived headlong into his sixteen hours a day seven days a week routine. But he didn't care, he thought he'd never felt happier to be that bone tired and sleep deprived and he didn't begrudge anyone, least of all Jack, for those months of grueling slave labor. He never regretted for a moment, didn't think much of it afterwards, that both Jack and himself had turned right down Lureen's offer of a handsome bunch of "convalescence money," as she'd put it, or at least a new truck for Ennis for all his troubles. It was not necessary, he had shrugged off the offer, Jack was his friend and that's the least he could do for a friend, but he promised to report back to guilty feeling Lureen about Jack's progress, just in case Jack himself didn't, and that they would come visit her li'l boy whenever they could. Which was just fine by the three of them. Truth was Ennis was happy to do just about anything for Lureen at that point for letting him take care of Jack. He was so fuckin' glad he could hardly believe it: Jack was alive, with him and on the mend and everything was alright again. He felt like _he _was alive again. _

_And the felling never wore off for the following thirty years. _

_True, life was not always easy and all good like the last fifteen or so years, especially those first years after he got Jack back with him. It took Jack another two years to persuade Ennis to look for ranch jobs away from Riverton, somewhere nobody knew them and they could stay together and Colorado was the farthest Ennis agreed to be away from his little girls whom Alma let him visit once a month. Then it was another five years of random jobs and unforgiving labor before they finally saw a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel in the form of a decrepit little ranch for sale, in the middle of nowhere, north of Twin Lakes, Adams County, Colorado. They came across it on the way back from their summer job, and Jack fell for it the moment he stepped out on its wobbly porch, laid his eyes on the snow-peaked mountain range in the distance, shawled in orange and blue sunset. Called it a li'l piece of god sent heaven. Ennis was not impressed with the derelict ranch, but the area within ten miles around it indeed looked like a piece a heaven – forest clad mountains, vast expanses of plains, icy blue lakes and all. Like they were back on Brokeback and had a ranch of their own just like Jack had always wanted, all at the same time. The only problem was money. Or the lack of it. But Jack was nothin' if not determined, didn't take no for an answer, not this time round when his dream was almost in his grasp. So within a month, with a little help from Lureen, who still felt a little guilty for throwing Jack out when he was helpless and obligated to Ennis for doing what she should a done as a dutiful wife, they took possession of the ranch and moved in, all their worldly possessions packed up neatly in two old suitcases on the bed of Ennis's beat-up truck._

_It took them another three years of exhausting labor to lick the goddamn place in shape and two more before finally they struck the first gold with their cattle breeding operation. The rest was history. Just life. A good one, complete with visiting children, Junior, Jenny and Bobby, or on occasion the other way round, then wih their families and grand children, all four of them, Junior's Ennis Junior and Jacqueline, Jack's secrete favorite girl, Jenny's Freddy and Bobby's blue eyed Louis, Ennis's soft spot, then sometimes with Alma, who mellowed down after fifteen years, made amends with Ennis and accepted Jack, with Lureen, her daughter Sarah Lee, a copy of her Ma, and her Dad, Brandon, Loren's second husband who took over the Newsome business when L.D. passed, with friends, neighbors and just occasional acquaintances, with hard work and everyday chores, major accidents and little frustrations, recurrent holidays and occasional anniversaries, and camping- fishing trips around the Twin Lakes district. And the most important thing of all was that he shared it all with Jack. It was a kind of life Ennis had never thought possible, least of all that he could ever have one. And he was sure he wouldn't, if not for Jack…. _

…His Jack, who was now dying on him, nine months after he'd been diagnosed with progressive lung cancer at the age of fifty-five. Those nine months were the worst in Ennis's life, worse than the time he thought he'd never see Jack again. 'Cause he was right here with Ennis, but they both already knew that he would be leaving soon, way too soon, and all the while Ennis had to be strong and took care of him. Ennis did the best he could as always.

So now as the time was running out on him, on them both, Jack seemed to be going back quite often to their first years. Their first summer, on Brokeback in '63 and the day they had been brought down so unexpectedly from their newly discovered, exhilarating world.

*

* *

Ennis reached out and brushed the back of his fingers along Jack's jaw line, forcing a little crooked smile to his lips.

"Told yer many times, bud, I was sorry as hell for that punch. Thought you forgave me, no? "

"Nah, not that…" Jack was quiet for a moment, the hiss of his labored breathing was the only sound to be heard before he continued.

"Thought you was gone an' never lookit me again." His voice was quivering, like he was reliving the heartbreak of their first parting. "What happened then, Ennis? Ya fell, then somethin' happened and ya changed yer mind? Why'd you ask me ta come with yer ta Riverton? Not that I'm complainin' or nothin'."

Ennis didn't know why, but it was the only secret he had somehow kept from Jack through all their years together – the vision of Jack in his arms, life oozing out of him in a dark red, almost black, sticky pool on asphalt, saying and not finishing that he loved Ennis. He'd known at that moment he would never be able to stand it and couldn't let Jack go. Couldn't even start thinking that it could possibly happen if he'd let go of Jack.

And Ennis told Jack, told him as he'd seen it. Except what Jack said to him in that vision of his. It was just a stupid premonition, nothing else, and Ennis didn't want to put the words in Jack's mouth.

Truth was, even though Jack had never said it like that, more than once, lots more, Ennis had caught Jack looking at him _that way_ - like he, Ennis, was the best thing, or whatever, for Jack. He had known for sure for a long time now that Jack loved him, with all his heart, just like Ennis did him, deep down. Except that the little dumbass had never been too shy to tell him about it, whenever there was a chance, especially since they had finally gotten back together, on their own ranch, for good. Nonetheless, somehow Ennis had always struggled to put his head around the fact that Jack could really feel _that way_ about him. Jack, who could have done so much better, ever since the very beginning; yet, who'd stayed by him, always, even with all the shit Ennis had put him through in the early years. That special look of Jack's and all its implications never failed to humble Ennis to no end and he tried his damnest best to live up to it. Live up to his Jack.

So now, listening to Ennis's old little secret, Jack smiled at him fondly, dragged his fingertips in a soothing, caressing gesture across Ennis's clasped hands, his fingers then finding their way in-between Ennis's, interlacing with them.

_Jack had been a true magnet for all sorts of nasty accidents: vicious fist fights in the early years that left him with more busted bones in addition to those already broken during his rodeo days, a serious lingering concussion, a bad car accident resulting in more damage to his battered body, a horse stepping on a snake and sending him flying over its head, landing flat on his back and with another concussion. He even managed to get himself in-between a bar brawl shoot-out in Denver which marked him with a gunshot scar on his left hip. Then once, around his thirty-ninth anniversary, Jack was fixing a busted tire of his truck on the roadside just a few miles out side of Derby when it exploded, sending the rim in his face. It was the God's true gift that someone was passing by and saw the accident, Jack on his back, choking on his own blood. He stopped his truck, jumped out, turned Jack over, called for help. The tire rim branded Jack with scars on his upper lip and left brow, but thank God, his eyes, his fuckin' impossible eyes, were unhurt. _

_And every time Ennis had been with him, took care of him, put him back together and on his feet. Well, almost._

"I wouldn't a probably lived that long without yer, babe. I know it, Ennis, I always been one stupid fuck ta leap without lookin'. And you always been there, to catch me."

Jack looked in his eyes, a shadow of his old smile curling his pale lips. He reached out with his hand, bony fingers cupping Ennis' jaw, said quietly:

"Yer been the best thing that ever happened ta me, Ennis. I hope you know _that_ if you'd never fuckin' know the rest."

Ennis bit hard on his lower lip, drawing blood, jaw rigid, hands clutching at each other, fighting furiously to keep his last bit of self-control in place. He had to be strong for Jack, couldn't give in just now.

As always, Jack saw it in Ennis's eyes and understood. He pulled Ennis down to bury his face on Jack's pillow, just above his shoulder, and whispered, "Ennis, it's okay to let go sometime, yer know. Yer don't get to be strong for me all the time. Just _be_ with me… It's okay, cowboy, just let go."

And Ennis did. He wept in Jack's arms, all the pain of past mistakes and sorrow of the coming separation, the futility of unfinished plans and longing of the lonely nights, past and at hand, all the memories and hopes, his life, his love, overflowing, drowning out his whole world, everything around.

Jack just held him for a long time, whispering, "'s alright, baby, 's alright," his breath catching, maybe from his own feelings, maybe from the other thing that both didn't want to think about just then. And Ennis knew that it _was _alright, 'cause Jack was with him. In him, always. Even when he'd be gone. Ennis knew he would have to endure pain during the day, loneliness at night, and the agonizingly slow passing of time, but he would be able to stand it. 'Cause he also knew that all he had to do was wait for a while to be with Jack again. He had no doubt that he would, just like so many times before, but this time it would be for always. And that was just what Ennis had always wanted, ever since their very first summer.

* * *

Song: Please Forgive Me (I an't Stop Loving You), Brian Adams

youtube .com/watch?v=9EHAo6rEuas


	5. Your Eyes a drabble

**YOUR EYES **

**Pairing:** Jack/Ennis  
**Genre:** AU, From The Roads We Choose Universe

**Word count**: 527  
**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** These beautiful characters do not belong to me. Neither money nor fame are gained from this, I'm just sharing with the likeminded crowd.  
**Synopsis:** Ennis learns to say what he thinks and feels.

Huge thanks to my beta EsmeAmelia.

* * *

If asked, Ennis would have never admitted in million years, but one particular thing about Jack that had grabbed hold of his attention right from the first encounter and never let go since was Jack's eyes – of the bluest of blue he'd ever seen, before and since, huge lashes and all… Ennis thought they were simply… they were jus'… uhm…. darn right impossible. For a guy, that was. Especially for one like Jack – a bull rider no less, strong, tough, fearless and all. Honest to God, they should really ban that kinda eyes on men, that's what Ennis thought. And that's exactly what he told Jack once, a few years after they'd bought their own _ranch_, a little God -forsaken place, and put it back up and running again with their own bare hands and sweat and blood and tears at times.

Five years down the road and they had finally struck gold with their little cattle and horse breeding operation. So, that time Jack got back from one of his cattle fair trips, all excited like a little kid, showed off to Ennis his new acquisition – a pair of fancy pilot shades that he'd called "branded". Branded, uh? A fuckin' pair a shades?.. What the fuck ever, if it made Jack happy. Truth was they looked real good on Jack. Made him look like a… someone from the ads in fancy magazines, or on TV, maybe? Only thing was that you couldn't see his eyes, which Ennis thought was a real shame and told Jack so.

Jack took his shades off, looked at Ennis suspiciously, mouth curling into a little smile, and asked "what about my eyes?" And that's when Ennis told him, his own eyes looking anywhere but at Jack, that _his_ kinda eyes should be banned on men, period.

That brought a huge, sly grin to Jack's face. Not that Ennis was looking.

"Whatcha sayin', cowboy? That my eyes are…," but Ennis didn't let him finish.

"Nothin'. Said nothin'."

"Well, maybe _you_ didn't, Ennis Del Mar, but I could swear I just heard _somebody_ sayin' somethin' about my eyes bein' … kinda purty? Like a gal's mayhaps?"

"I said no such thing, Jack fuckin' Twist!! " Ennis bit out, face flashing ten shades of red and Jack started to giggle. "All I jus' sayin' was that … that I… I like ta see your eyes, is all…" He finished under his breath, eyes still not meeting Jack's.

After a few moments, when he didn't hear either a smartass comeback or a movement from Jack, he dared to steal a quick glance from under his lashes.

Jack was looking straight at him, trying to hold a soft quivery smile on his lips, the eyes in question huge and liquid. Then he took two large strides towards Ennis, grabbed him in a full bodied hug, and kissed the breath out of him, tongues, teeth, hips and all. And when finally they surfaced for air, all hot and trembling, Ennis pressed his flushed face into the curve where Jack's neck ran into his broad shoulder, eyes still closed, arms possessive around Jack's waist, and whispered:

"Beautiful."

* * *

Music: Lay Back In The Arms of Someone, Smokie

.com/watch?v=Pd9w_cKxuP0


	6. Epilogue Loved

**Epilogue: LOVED (or The Other Side of the Dozy Embrace)**

**Pairing:** Jack/Ennis  
**Genre:** AU, From The Roads We Choose Universe

**Word count**: 918

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** These beautiful characters do not belong to me. Neither money nor fame are gained from this, I'm just sharing with the likeminded crowd.  
**Synopsis:** Ennis's take on the dozy embrace.

**H**uge thanks as ever to you, **EsmeAmelia**, my dedicated beta.

* * *

There are some moments in life that once experienced stay ingrained in the memory, then gradually run away, taking on a life of their own, time after time, adding on some vivid details that might or might not have been in real life, but it didn't really matter. For Ennis, one of such memories was the artless embrace he and Jack had shared that first summer on Brokeback, satisfying some sexless hunger in them that neither had understood, but craved nonetheless, then and long after.

Jack had been standing in front of the fire, completely still, as if sleeping on his feet, his silhouette a dark column against the grey mass of the rock in front. Ennis had come up to him gingerly, put his arms around him, pulled him close, half expecting Jack to tense up, turn around, grab him and send them both rolling onto the ground. That was what Ennis himself would probably have done. But Jack hadn't. Instead, he had eased into Ennis's embrace, aligning their bodies, slightly tilted his head, exposing a sweep of his neck where it ran into his shoulder. They stood like that for a long time, Ennis humming a lullaby he'd remembered from his childhood, rocking Jack slightly, for once feeling contented and free.

Afterwards Ennis couldn't understand why that single moment of their first summer kept coming back to haunt him during the years when they were apart. It had kept something warm, smoldering deep down in him, when his mind tried to tell him that it was all over, that he would never see Jack again.

And it was not until many years later that Ennis finally understood, on one Christmas night on their newly acquired little ranch north of Twin Lakes, Colorado.

There were just the two of them, sitting in front of the bonfire they'd put up outside of the porch, Jack on a lower step, between Ennis's knees, leaning back into his embrace, his head at Ennis's left shoulder, slightly turned to the side exposing the sweep of his neck that Ennis could never have enough of. The night was crystal clear, the sky peppered with brilliant flecks of stars, occasional snowflakes floating in the crisp night air still haunted by the faint smells of late autumn. Both were quiet for a long time, passing the whiskey bottle back and forth between them, but nothing needed to be said really. For it was all said, whatever it had been between them, all them years, unspoken.

It was then that the dozy embrace from the summer on Brokeback came back to Ennis again. And suddenly, just like that, he understood what it all had meant. To Ennis, it was Jack's ultimate gesture of giving - unreserved, unconditional, with no taking it back. Jack had entrusted Ennis with his body, his heart, his… all. Everything he got to give. Probably right from the very beginning, hoping that Ennis would take it, for keeps.

And instinctively, unbeknown to himself, Ennis had accepted that precious gift, held Jack close to his heart, their bodies fitting perfectly like the last two pieces of a grand puzzle, feeling protective and at peace. And something else for which he had found a name only years, way too many years, later.

Afterwards that curve at the base of Jack's neck had become Ennis's home, the place where Ennis would come to lose himself, pressing his face and mouth into it, breathing in the scent of musky sweat and horses and cigarettes, and also of sage and sun and summer that was all Jack.

They never talked about it, but somehow it became their very own private symbol of their difficult but in the end infinitely fulfilling relationship: a tight fitting embrace, back to front, Ennis holding Jack close to his heart, in bed or out in the open, naked, half stripped or fully clothed. But clothed sometimes meant more. It meant that it was not about sex only. It was everything else that had stayed and never changed, even when there was no more sex, like the times when Jack was too sick and broken. Like the last few months of their life together. Or the last fifteen minutes, when all Jack could do in his drug induced sleep was fight to force some air into what was left of his lungs and all Ennis could do was hold him close to his heart, fighting to swallow back his tears, saving them all up till after…

And when his heart couldn't stand it anymore without Jack and finally gave up one stormy summer night four years after Jack had gone, Ennis passed away quietly in his sleep, with a little crooked smile on his lips. For Jack had been in his last dream. The way Ennis remembered him from that first summer on Brokeback: nineteen and full of life, with his impossible blue eyes and his smile that dazzled the sun. Jack came quietly up behind him and wrapped his strong arms around Ennis, pulled him close, pressed his right hand firmly over Ennis' heart, claiming it. And Ennis didn't resist. He leaned into Jack's embrace, easy and unafraid, surrendering all that he had left to give to that beautiful man he'd called his, forever grateful for how Jack had made him feel: brave and unwavering, strong and trusted, happy and at peace with himself. He'd made Ennis feel whole. And above all, he'd made Ennis feel loved. And in the end that was all that mattered.

* * *

Because You Loved Me, Clay Aiken

.com/watch?v=IQRqYPlUcsI&feature=related


End file.
